There You Stood, Holding Me
by Fang lover23
Summary: "Life is like an hourglass: eventually everything hits the bottom and all you have to do is wait it out until someone comes and turns it around." Based off of the song "Red Sam" by Flyleaf. NO SLASH.


**Heeeeeyyyy. So, yeah, another story. It's pretty angsty. Actually, when I started writing it, I was having such a good day, and ehen I heard the song "Red Sam" by Flyleaf on my iPod, I just HAD to do a oneshot for it. I was like "Where's all this angst coming from?"**

**But finishing it today, I've had a LOT of angst because of some personal issues over the last few days. Let's hope that helped a bit...**

**Just remember, the story is _loosely_ based off of the song mentioned above. I actually used this song in one of my other stories. It's like flashback central. Xd**

**And also be wary that this is my first M-rated fic. It's mainly for language and...content. I can't really say much without giving the whole thing away. No slash, though. Darn. Haha, just kidding. :)**

**Anyway...**

**Enjoy!**

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There was red _everywhere_- more than normal. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. Not here. Not now

But the blood kept flowing- out of his arm, his wrist, his legs, anything he had been able to reach in his bout of madness. He knew it was a good idea to only wear a pair of boxers to bed last night.

Somehow, though, he was able to laugh at his current predicament. The blood loss had left him a little loopy, and now he was manically laughing at how low his life had sunk. At least now he could die; he'd finally be away from that _monster_. That man had been the cause of this whole situation. How could someone do that to their own flesh and blood?

He squeezed the razor in his hand, creating a line across his palm. The endorphins rushing through his system brought the relief he had been so desperate for all these months and years, though he'd never cut himself there. Picking up the piece of metal out of his bloodied hand with his other, the examined it, noticing how much crimson was on it, dripping, taunting him. _Just one more_.

He was ready to end it all, right here; right now. Nothing was stopping him. He was tired of all the lies, all the beatings, the shit he put up with. Nobody would hurt him if he was dead.

Somewhere during all of this thinking, the teen had fallen to the floor, exhausted and spent, but still full of so much adrenaline. Sprawled out on the white bathroom tile now, he managed to lift up his heavily scarred arms, ones he made and ones that were the doing of others. Isn't this what that man wanted? That man hadn't ever cared about him, had always wanted him dead. If the beatings weren't any clue, abandoning him was the icing on the cake. And now both of their wishes were about to come true.

He lifted the bloody razor once more, slowly swinging his arm up to his face. He kissed his sacred relief, his lips turning red in the process, and gently dragged the dull side of the metal down his cheek and jaw, stopping at the pulse point on his neck. It wouldn't take much to kill himself now. He'd always heard Logan and his medical-speak about how one swipe of the jugular could be instantaneous death.

At the thought of one of his best friends, he ceased the pressure on his artery. Could he really do this and leave all of them behind? What about poor little Carlos? The little Latino would be devastated. They all would.

_No they wouldn't_, cried the voice in the boy's head. _None of them ever cared about you. They never asked you if you were okay. You're just a burden to them. You have no talent, you're not smart, you're not even as pretty as everyone thought you were. It's all a mask. You're _worthless_ to everyone. No one could ever love something as fucked up as you._

"Goddammit!" the boy cried in defeat. "Make it stop!"

_Then make that final cut. It'll be so easy; you won't even feel anything, and soon it'll be all over. Like anyone will even care that you're gone anyway…_

Making up his mind, the boy began dragging the blade across his skin, but was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. "Dammit, James! Open up the fucking door!" The voice on the other side started jiggling the handle, and finding it locked, proceeded to kick at the door. Though the apartment wasn't exactly classy or well-built, that door was pretty damn strong.

While the other person was pounding on the door, James just continued where he left off, digging painfully into the smooth surface of his neck, rivulets of his life force flowing down his now-pale skin. Tears running down his cheeks, he chanted in a whisper, "It'll all be over soon. No one ever cared. It'll all be over soon." And then everything went black.

The door finally opened in a loud clatter, banging against the wall of the small bathroom. A blond teenager stood before the scene, almost frozen to the spot. "Oh shit, James!" he screamed in agony and was instantly at his friend's side. He swatted the razor out of the thin boy's limp hand, but the damage had already been done. James lay there, bleeding out in his best friend's arms on the bathroom floor of apartment 2J. It shouldn't have happened this way. But there was no turning back now.

"James! James! JAMES!" Kendall cried, crystal drops freely flowing down his ashen face. "Don't you fucking die on me!" He somehow had had enough common sense to dial 911 as he had rushed to James' side, mopping up the blood with the closest bathroom towel. He had his phone set between his shoulder and ear.

"_911, what's your emergency?_"

Kendall sobbed through the explanation. "M-my fr-friend. He's bleeding out- there's blood everywhere! I think he was trying to kill himself. There's a huge gash on his neck, and cuts on his wrists, and there's a razor- just please help!"

"Okay, honey. I just need you to stay calm. Can you do that for me?"

The woman on the other line did sound very sincere, so he took a deep breath and hugged his friend tighter to him. "Y-yes."

"Alright. Can I get your and your friends names?"

The blond swallowed loudly. "My name is Kendall, and my friend is J-James." His voice almost faltered on his broken friend's name.

"Well my name is Cheryl, Kendall, sweetheart. I'm sending an ambulance right now. Where do you live?"

"Apartment 2J at the Palm Woods complex. There's no one else here but me."

"Okay, dear, they're on their way; they should be there any minute. Now, Kendall, I need you to stay on the phone with me so we can make sure James will survive, okay? Is he breathing?"

Kendall quickly checked for the tell-tale rising and falling motion. "Y-yes. But barely."

"Okay, that's still a good sign, Kendall. You're doing great. Next I need you to check his pulse. I know it's going to be difficult since he cut his wrists and neck, but both have pulse points. The neck one will be easier to find. Can you do that really quickly, dear?"

The frantic boy did as he was told. Feeling his friend's blood squelch between his fingers was so grotesque he thought he might vomit. But he had to remains strong. Concentrating, he eventually found the right spot "Umm, I've got it. It's not really very strong, but I can still feel it going pretty regularly. He's out cold, though," he told the woman.

"It's going to be okay, Kendall," Cheryl soothed. "Is there anymore bleeding that hasn't stopped?"

Kendall looked all up and down James' mostly naked body. There was a lot of blood, but it seemed to all be stationary and crusting. "No, I don't think so. The neck one is really slowing down; it's pretty much stopped."

Cheryl sighed in relief. "Okay. One more question, Kendall. How old are you two?"

"Seventeen," he replied immediately.

The woman cringed. She had a daughter that was their age. Then she heard a commotion on the other side of the line. "Are the EMT's there?"

"Yes! Oh my god, thank you Cheryl."

"He's going to be fine, okay Kendall? I have faith. You're a good friend. You might have just saved his life. I'm going to let you go now. You're in good hands now. Bye-bye."

"Goodbye," he said, and the line went dead for both of them.

Back in the apartment, James felt really light, but like he weighed a thousand pounds at the same time. His hand felt really warm while the rest of him was freezing. It took all his diminishing strength to open his hazel eyes. The world was blurry, but he spotted a mop of blond hair that he would know anywhere. "Kendall," he croaked.

Said boy was startled by the sudden noise coming from the lifeless teen in front of him. "Jesus, James! What the _hell_?"

"Where am I?" he asked, a little dazed.

"Well, you're on a stretcher on your way downstairs to a waiting ambulance. We're going to the hospital," he replied tensely. At this point, James realized that his right hand was warm because Kendall was holding it tightly, afraid that James might not make it if he let go. The world came into focus more and the brunette could see that Kendall's face was blanched, and there was an abundance of fear in his watery, emerald eyes.

Suddenly the whole situation came crashing down on the young singer. He had almost killed himself, and no one knew the _why_ behind it. James felt his throat tighten as the tears started leaking from the corners of his eyes. And since he was strapped onto the stretcher, it was uncomfortable when he began hyperventilating slightly. "I'm sorry," he barely whispered. "Kendall, I'm so s-sorry. Please don't leave me!"

"Hey hey, shhh, it's okay, James. I'm right here. I'm staying right here, 'kay?" They had finally gotten to the ambulance out front, and the paramedics had given Kendall permission to ride along. "You're safe now. Nothing's going to hurt you now."

James stiffened at his choice of word. If only the blond knew the hell he had been through, he'd take that statement back. As much as the brunette appreciated the care and the kindness he had been so deprived of, his words brought back memories he had stored away long ago. He remembered the torture, the bruises, the horridness; every bad memory he possessed came to the surface in that moment, taking over him and all of his control.

Kendall watched helplessly as his friend convulsed and screamed. There was so much pain and sorrow in the movements that it broke the boy's heart. The hazel-eyed teen was hyperventilating, his breathing staccato and wheezing. The heart monitor he was hooked up to was beeping sporadically while he thrashed around on the stretcher. "What's going on?" Kendall squeaked at the paramedics beside him, who had already gone to work.

"He's hyperventilating…like he's having some sort of panic or anxiety attack. We're going to have to sedate him," the male said.

The blond could only watch as the man reached behind him and grabbed a wrapped syringe out of a cupboard, opened it, and practically shoved the needle into James' torn-up arm. Immediately the sedative took its hold on the psychotic teen. His breathing slowed and his arms and legs went limp, and then he fell back on the stretcher, looking as if he'd gone into a deep sleep. Kendall let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and looked up at the EMT's with a thankful expression.

Minutes later they arrived at Hollywood East Hospital. Everyone quickly rushed out of the vehicle and made their way inside. The paramedics were filling in the waiting doctors, and Kendall just followed, hand still clasped with James'. He looked so vulnerable, like a child; from the way the boy's face was scrunched up just slightly, there was something else that was making him this way. He just let it slide- he would wait until James was better to ask.

The group came to a set of doors. "Sorry, kid," a doctor said sympathetically. "You're going to have to wait out here. We'll come get you if anything comes up."

Kendall nodded in recognition and reluctantly slid his hand out of his friend's limp one, walking away sullenly. He hung his head, not really knowing when he'd see James again. But he knew he'd be taken care of here.

"Kendall? NO! Where is he? Kendall, don't leave me!"

Snapping his head up, the teen saw James sitting straight up, eyes wide as he struggled against the doctors that were trying to help calm him down. Many men and women in scrubs were around the pretty boy, all wondering how he had managed to overcome the heavy sedatives he had been given only ten minutes ago.

In an instant, Kendall was rushing over past the double doors to get to his broken friend. But suddenly a large weight was holding him back, strong arms encircling his waist. He still fought the grip, kicking his legs and flailing his arms in an attempt to escape. "Let me go!" he wailed desperately at the doctor. "He NEEDS me! Please, let me go with him! JAMES! I'm right here, buddy!"

"Son! Son! I'm so sorry, but you're going to have to wait outside for now. There's not really anything you can do for him," the scrub-clad doctor said to the frantic teen. "I can promise you that you'll be able to see him as soon as he's settled in."

Knowing the man was right, Kendall slumped in defeat. "Okay. Just…please be careful with him," he whimpered, his voice breaking. The doctor gave him a sad look, but agreed with an understanding nod; he let the boy go and Kendall made his way back to the waiting room, taking the time to glance once more at his friend, who was now once again sedated and still on the stretcher. He felt the tears come again, and he prayed to whatever deity existed that this day would end quicker than it had begun.

An hour later, Mrs. Knight showed up with Katie, Logan, and Carlos in tow. All three were shaken beyond belief, their eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. But no one was as bad off as Kendall, who merely sat curled up into a ball on his uncomfortable chair. He hadn't spoken a word since he had called his mother, and refused to change into the clean clothes she had brought for him. It was a gruesome sight, seeing him still covered in James' dried blood, practically catatonic. Logan, being the medical expert of the group, was seriously worried for both of his friends: James was lying in a hospital bed after a failed suicide attempt, and Kendall was still in shock and unresponsive. The genius was no psychologist, but he and everyone around him was sure that Kendall would have some lasting effects from the whole ordeal.

He barely felt an arm wrap around his shoulder lovingly. "Kendall, honey? Can you say something?" Kacy Knight asked. She hated seeing her son so depressed and lifeless. Again, he said nothing, and she sighed and moved away from him with tears in her eyes.

"James Diamond?"

At the voice, the group of five stood up, Kendall shooting like a rocket from his seat. "I-is he okay?" he asked desperately.

The doctor was an older man with graying hair and a friendly smile. He almost reminded Kendall of his grandfather on his dad's side. "Yes. Hello, my name is Doctor Simmons, and I've been taking care of James since he was admitted. He's stable. We had to put him under anesthesia for a short while to give him several stitches and a few blood transfusions." Kendall flinched at the description of what the pretty boy had gone through. Having scars would be a nightmare for him. "He's resting now; he's had a very rough day. You're welcome to go see him. But please make sure only two or three of you go in at a time." He smiled sadly at them and led them down the hall to James' room.

It was more horrible than Kendall remembered. James was pale, too pale compared to his usual 'Mangerine' complexion. He looked as if he was sleeping, but was too still and could have been mistaken for dead. There were tubes and wires coming out of several places on the boy's body, connecting him to a heart monitor, a blood bag, and a clear bag of morphine. Most of his skin was covered in bandages, giving him the look of a car crash victim. Kacy Knight put a hand over her mouth in shock. That was one of her babies in the bed, looking nothing like himself. Kendall had told his mom all that he knew about the situation, but it still left a lot to be said about the reason behind James' temporary insanity.

Though he was unconscious, they all walked over to his fragile body and just _watched_ him. Kendall was practically beside himself, fawning over the boy in the bed like he was dying. Dr. Simmons had assured them all that James would be fine after his injuries healed.

Eventually, they were all too overwhelmed to stay any longer, so they filed out of the too-bright, sterile room; everyone except Kendall. He had volunteered to stay with his friend overnight, too distraught to leave his side. Everyone had just let him be, and Mrs. Knight made him promise to call them if anything were to happen- good or bad- to James. He agreed more than willingly, whatever he had to do to stay. His mother had also forced him to finally change his clothes so she could take the bloodied ones home to clean them up.

After they left, Kendall pulled up one of the uncomfortable chair next to the bed. He sat back down in it and grabbed James' hand softly. He needed some sort of proof that James was still with him. Exhausted and overwhelmed, the blond put his head down on the mattress next to the pretty boy's leg and fell into a deep but restless sleep.

* * *

_James found himself back in his apartment 2J. He passed Mrs. Knight and Katie, who were sitting on the couch watching some chick-flick, on his way to his bedroom, waving and smiling to them when they looked up at him. Stepping into his room, everything looked exactly the way he had left it when he'd gone down to the pool. He had just come back up to grab some more 'Cuda suntan lotion. His board shorts were damp and getting colder by the minute, so he needed to hurry up so he could get back outside into the hot sunshine._

_A sudden shuffling across the room startled him. Jumping a bit, James looked over to the source and saw that a bottle of his 'Cuda man-spray had fallen off of his dresser. He let out a relieved breath and continued his search for his lotion._

_But before he could do that, a hand enclosed itself around his upper arm. James was spun around and met with the one sight he thought he'd never see again._

Him.

_James was thrown to the ground by the man, landing hard on the wood flooring. It was a wonder Mrs. Knight wasn't coming to check on him. But now that there was real danger, James had briefly lost his ability to speak. He only managed a slight whisper when he asked, "What the hell are _you_ doing here?"_

_The man above him chuckled sadistically. "Isn't obvious, Jamie-boy? I've come back for you."_

"_But- but…you're supposed to be _dead_!"_

"_Now why would you think that?" the man asked in mock-shock. "Oh, that's right. Your worthless mother told you because she wanted you to be miserable too. Nobody cared about you then, and nobody cares about you now."_

"_You're WRONG!" James screamed. "I know a lot of people who care about me: Kendall, Logan, Carlos, Katie-"_

"_Oh, give it a rest, James! We all know they just took pity on you because you're just so darn cute…" The man trailed off and crouched down to James' level; said boy had slunk against the wall in desperate attempt to escape the monster in front of him. The intruder brought a hand up to James' face and stroked his cheek gently. "I'm the only one who ever _really_ loved you."_

"_Bull_shit_," the brunet snapped. "In your book, love counts as torturing and raping a young child. You're a fucking psycho."_

"_But I'm your father, young man…"_

_James shook his head in disgust. "No. You were _never_ my father."_

_He knew it would be coming since he had talked back, but the first punch still hurt more than he remembered it usually. The force of the blow knocked him sideways, and he didn't have enough time to try and pick himself up before his father grabbed James by the back of his shirt and tossed him like a ragdoll. He clutched his ankle, which had bent the wrong way in the fall, but was still able to stand up and attempt to fight back. He squatted low and swung his legs out, catching the man off guard as he stumbled a bit to the ground. Seeing his chance, James scrambled to the doorway of his room and called out, "Mrs. Knight! Katie! Anybody, please HELP!"_

_It was no use though, his father, Jerry Diamond, had him cornered. "Don't even try, boy. I killed them both on my way in. It was all too easy, actually. I can't say they didn't feel any pain, but they did go quickly." And then he smiled._

_To say James was in shock was an understatement. "W-what?"_

"_I got the others, too," Jerry continued. "You have no one now, James. Kendall, Carlos, and Logan are all floating in the pool…dead. There's quite a commotion downstairs. I'm surprised you didn't hear it."_

_James was furious. "NO. I don't believe you." He felt tears come to his eyes, burning as they failed to fall._

"_Would I _lie_ to you about something like that, Jamie? You should've figured out by now that none of them actually thought anything of you. They're _happier_ now that they don't have to deal with you. You're a disgusting little whore. How could anyone ever care about you?" Jerry's voice was low and cold, sending shivers up the cowering boy's spine._

_But something shifted in him. James felt anger in a quantity he never knew a person could possess, not even his father. "You're a fucking MONSTER!" he screeched._

"_Oh, you have no idea." Jerry stepped forward, ready to strike the final blows._

"_Oh, Jesus! Mom? Katie! James?"_

_There were running footsteps in the apartment now. And he knew that voice. It couldn't be…_

_Kendall stepped in the door, out of breath. Spotting the other man in the room, his face paled in fear. "James? What's…going on?"_

"Kendall, my boy!" Jerry called out cheerfully. "You're just in time for the show." That was when he started beating the life out of his son, in front of his best friend.

_The blond tried making a move to stop the psychopath, but Jerry pulled a small gun out of his coat pocket and pointed it at him. "One more step, Knight, and you're dead. Or shall I shoot little Jamie first?" He repositioned the weapon to against James' temple, causing the beaten teen to gasp._

_When Kendall looked into the eyes of his friend for help, however, he saw nothing but hatred. What could he have done to deserve that look? Confused as ever, he held his ground, awaiting Jerry's next move._

_The man suddenly smirked, an idea popping into his head. "Wait…I've got a better plan." He took the gun away from James and dragged the boy upward by his hair. "_You_ can have the honor of watching the light leave your friend's eyes," he whispered throatily in his son's ear. He laid a dagger in James' hand._

_The teenager felt only hostility and antagonism toward his former best friend. Clasping the hilt tightly, he advanced slowly on the green-eyed teen in front of him. Kendall shrank back in terror at the change he was witnessing. He backed up into a hard weight, and Jerry twisted Kendall's arms behind his back, trapping him. He laid his chin on the teen's shoulder and looked at James with an amused expression. "He never loved you, James," he started. "It was just a _game_ they all played. And you say _you're_ a good actor? Well…there's none better than Kendall, Carlos, and Logan. You were just their toy…they were ready to throw you out at any time, but kept around you because they liked playing with you. Just like I did…"_

"_James," Kendall breathed. "That's not true! You know it's not-"_

"_SHUT UP! Both of you!" He couldn't take it anymore. He leaped forward and was instantly at the blonde's throat with the knife, pinning him to the wall. "How could you, Kendall?" he hissed. "Don't think I don't know that I have no one in this world anymore. You mean nothing to me anymore. You, and Carlos and Logan and _everybody_, are responsible for my misery. There's no one I trust less than you." He paused for dramatic effect. "Bye now." James dug the blade deep into Kendall's neck, dragging it at a snail's pace, taking a sick pride in watching the blood flow endlessly from the wound. The blond collapsed to the floor, gasping for air like a fish out of water. He was losing too much blood too quickly, so with one last look of helplessness at his now-sadistic buddy, his eyes dulled, and he thumped to the floor in the puddle of his own blood._

_A few moments of silence passed before Jerry clapped his son on the back. "I didn't think you had it in you, son. I'm so proud-" He was cut off by a sharp pain in his abdomen. Looking down he saw the dagger buried to the hilt just below his ribcage. Glancing back up, he saw James with a calm but psychotic look upon his face. The boy twisted the blade, causing crimson to gush from the wound, unstoppable at this point._

"_Sweet dreams, _daddy_."_

_Watching his father die by his hands gave James a strange satisfaction. Moving his hazel eyes around his room, he suddenly felt a sudden sense of ease, like nothing was wrong with his life anymore._

_But there it was, just sitting there, calling to him. "James," it said._

_He made is way over to his bed, where the gun lay on the floor at the foot of it. He picked it up, weighing the cold metal in his hands. Though all of the causes of his problems were gone, he still wasn't happy. For James Diamond, there was only one way to true happiness._

_He placed the barrel of the firearm at the middle of his forehead and squeezed the trigger…_

_

* * *

_

James shot up in his hospital bed, breathing heavily, sending the heart monitor into overdrive, the incessant beeping bringing him back to reality. He was alive, his father wasn't. But where was Kendall?

He felt the same pressure on his left hand as before, earlier in the day, and instantly knew that the blond was safe and sound next to him. Seeing him look so peaceful in sleep after all he'd been through today was a welcome relief for the taller teen.

Not knowing what came over him, he ran his fingers calmingly through the dirty-blond hair of his friend. Kendall stirred, emerald eyes opening groggily, and he turned his head up to meet James' gaze. Recognition flashed in his eyes and he immediately threw his arms around the boy in the bed. "James! Oh, thank God you're okay. Don't you _ever_ scare me like that again."

It felt good for James, just rocking back and forth in his best friend's arms. He now knew he was being selfish with his suicide attempt, and he questioned why he actually doubted his friends' loyalty. "I'm so sorry, Kendall. So, SO sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about anymore, James," Kendall reassured him. "The fact that you're alive, and from what I can see already, willing to _keep_ living, is apology enough for all of us."

"What…?"

"Carlos, Logan, mom, Katie, and I have all been waiting for you to wake up. I haven't really moved from this spot since we first visited you." He looked down sheepishly.

"And how long ago was that?" James wasn't exactly sure he wanted to know.

Kendall looked over his shoulder, presumably at a clock. "Oh, maybe about…eighteen hours?"

The brunet's eyes shot open as wide as dinner plates. He looked at the clock and it was about four in the morning. But then he had a realization. "You stayed with me that _whole_ time?" There was hardly a soul he could name who'd ever done anything like that for him.

"Well, _yeah_. You're my best bud. And…I was so worried about you. I thought that if I ever left you alone, that you'd just…disappear, or something." He paused. "James…I thought I was going to lose you!"

James' heart broke at the upset look on Kendall's face. "I'm here now, Kendall. I'm not going anywhere. I promise." He smiled genuinely at his savior.

Several moments passed before the blond brought up a question he's wanted to ask since he saw his friend bleeding out on the bathroom floor. "Why did you do it?" His tone wasn't harsh, just curious with a hint of sadness for his broken friend.

James only stared at Kendall in bewilderment. Did he really want to say why? He wasn't really even sure of it himself. Before he could make up his mind, he was word-vomiting.

"It's just…_everything_, Kendall. I don't really know, but I've been having feelings of loneliness and betrayal. I mean it doesn't help my self-esteem that my dad-" He'd said too much.

Kendall sat up a bit straighter. "What _about_ your dad?"

It was now or never for the truth. It would come out one way or another. "When I was little, he used to…" The memories were almost too much for him to bear. "He would beat me and touch me, call me names. Then when I got older, he almost killed me one time after he raped me. That's why I didn't see you guys for a few weeks. I wasn't at camp that summer like my mom told you."

By this time, the blond was full on weeping. The tears were more out of anger at Jerry Diamond, but some fell because he didn't see how James could've ever thoughtthose things. He didn't know why, but he suddenly found himself running his fingertips up and down James' arm, along all the scars and bruises, new and old. His calloused appendages traced every raised hash mark marring the once-flawless skin, feeling helpless and like he should have done something more to help. "Did he…?"

James sighed heavily. "Yeah; he did some of those. Most were my own doing. I just always felt so numb after what he did to me…oh, Kendall, I was so selfish! I promise I won't ever do this ever again. I'll even get some sort of plastic surgery to get the scars removed. I hate them! None of our fans will want to see these. They'll just think I'm disgusting! What if-" He was silence with a finger on his lips.

"Don't say things like that! If they were really our fans, they would love us, even if one of us went through a brief stint of craziness…" He was lighthearted about that statement. "And I think they're beautiful," he continued, glancing down at the bandaged limbs. "They tell a story. They make you, _you_. You're still my best friend no matter what. I'm also your brother, and so are Carlos and Logan. Hell, even Katie's like everyone's little sister."

James chuckled at that. "I know," he replied. "And I should've remembered that before I picked up that razor the final time. I know that I want to get help for…whatever is wrong with me. I want to get better. I'll do whatever it takes, but I want to be normal again. I just want to forget about my dad."

Kendall brought James into another hug. "I understand. But also remember that he's dead, so he can't hurt you, okay?"

The brunet cringed at remembering his dream. "There's one more thing, Kendall."

"What?"

"I had a nightmare before you woke up."

Kendall squeezed him a little tighter. "Do you wanna tell me what it was about?" he asked gently.

James felt somewhat ashamed. "M-my dad came for me at the apartment. He- he killed your mom and Katie, and then he came in my room and started pummeling me. Then you ran in, and he threatened to kill you if you tried to stop him. But he told me that I should be the one to kill you. And…I had so much _rage_. He'd told me that no one cares about me, and that was the final straw. Kendall…I actually_ killed _you!" He stopped briefly to let out a pitiful sob. "And then I killed that fucker, and shot myself in the head because I just couldn't handle the pain anymore." The tears started flowing freely, unadulterated emotions making their way forward.

Kendall merely scooped James into his arms once again. He rubbed the hurt boy's back comfortingly, not at all fazed by the vivid dream re-telling. "I know you won't hurt me, James. I'm going to be here for you, every step of the way. And if anybody wants to mess with us, I'll just go all 'bad boy' on their asses."

James was still amazed at how Kendall managed to find a comic side to every situation they had ever encountered. "Thank you."

It may have only been two words, but they meant more to the blond than the world itself. "We'll get through this, Jamie. _All_ of us. You have so many more reason for living than reasons why you shouldn't. Which, by the way, you have _absolutely _no reason to kill yourself anymore. We all love you, and we're gonna support you through it all. We're brothers. There's no breaking that bond. Once you're in, you're in for _life_." A truer statement could not have been said at that moment.

They both ended up lying down in James' tiny bed, legs entangled due to the lack of room. James snuggled into Kendall's muscular but soft chest while Kendall wrapped his arms around to James' back, feeling the love of his friend radiate all over him, making him feel safe. They both knew there was a long road ahead, but the two teens, with the help of their friends and peers, were ready to face any obstacle that life could throw at them with this curveball. Neither of them had expected that they would come to a point like this in their lives, but they were glad that they had each other to count on in the rough times.

"I love you, Kendall."

"I love you too, James. Now get some rest. You've had a long day."

With that, James shut his eyes, for once content with himself. He knew there would be no more problems with that.

It was the first night in seventeen years that he fell asleep knowing that he was truly loved. It was a dreamless sleep, but images of his friends floated in and out of his conscience intermittently throughout the night. James was ready to face this, and he knew he wouldn't even be there if it wasn't for Kendall. He realized that friendship and loyalty would get him through the rough times ahead. For now, he was just content with sharing a moment with his best friend of thirteen years, awaiting the dawn of a new day.

* * *

**Holy Son-of-a-Nutcracker. This thing was like TWELVE pages in Word. This is my longest oneshot _ever_. Six thousand words. Wow. I'm so proud of myself. C:**

**And my English teachers always said I write too much... Pssh! XD**

**So, I was very angst-inspired, you could say, from OneManWritingGames (_Inhuman_) and Miss Fenway (_Heaven_). I swear, one of these days, they're going to kill me. I've actually been preparing for an accidental overdose of angst because of those two. ****But I love them to death, and, like I said, they're my _inspirations_. Please check them out if you haven't already. :)**

**And don't forget to tell them that I sent you. :D**

**Aaaaannnd, what else was I going to say? Oh, yes. If you're waiting for me to update _Hollywood Hills_, I've been kind of in a rut, but I've got a couple ideas about how to get the story where I want it to go. Suggestions always help. -hint hint-**

**Hope you liked this one! R & R please! :)**


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